


Spiced Kiss

by ifwednesdaywasaflowerchild



Series: Jake and Cassie's Fluff Files [10]
Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Cookies, F/M, Happy, Sleepy Kisses, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-08 02:59:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12855276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifwednesdaywasaflowerchild/pseuds/ifwednesdaywasaflowerchild
Summary: Cassie makes mulled wine and snickerdoodles, Jake likes both, and they share some lazy kisses. It's a Christmasy story full of alcohol, warm cookies, and warmer kisses.





	Spiced Kiss

  
Her apartment smells of warm, tart fruit and cinnamon when he steps through the door. The living room is dark, with the exception of a few plain candles (strong candles induce horrible migraines with all of the chemical fragrance) flickering gold, tossing strange shadows on her taupe walls, that works in tandem with the simple sweetness of Ella Fitzgerald crooning 'White Christmas' and the fruit and cinnamon to give her apartment the soft, warm ambience that she so longs for when Christmas comes around. He drops his keys and his wallet on the nearest flat surface, toes off his boots, and pads to the kitchen where he suspects he'll find her. 

She looks ethereal but also adorable standing at the stove in a pair of soft gray yoga pants and one of his flannel shirts, with the sleeves rolled up, and the hem tied above her belly button. Her red curls have been piled on top of her head and her face is free of makeup, not that she really wears much. The kitchen is sunk into darkness, as well, with only the golden shimmer of burning candles to illuminate his favorite girl. When he creeps closer, he picks up the faint chime of her humming along, while her hips shift to the saxophone solo. 

"...I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write, may your days be merry and bright, and may all your Christmases be white," he can't quite match the pitch, but his warm rasp and the way his hands curl around her hips match the tender intonation to perfection. "Hey sweetheart." 

"Hi," Cassie murmurs, tilting her head back onto his shoulders. "I didn't hear you come in." 

"I bet not," Jake teases, shifting his weight so they're both swaying along with the vibrant carols that pour out of Cassie's record player. "You were lost in your own little world." 

"Was I?" she wonders drowsily, head rolling so she's nuzzled into the collar of his shirt. 

Jake just hums, thumbing the waistband of her pants, before her hands settle on top of his, and he curls his fingers to interlace with hers. He's warm and heavy at her back, like a blanket, and she takes a moment to enjoy his heat, to sink into his embrace, and listen to him sing. 

"What are you making?" he peeks over her shoulder into the pot. There's a few orange slices, a couple cinnamon sticks, and two star of anise pods floating in a dark liquid.

"Mulled wine?" 

"Hmm." Cassie hums, nuzzling closer to him. "Eve gave me the recipe. Should be ready in a few minutes." 

Jake's not terribly concerned with the alcoholic beverage, at the moment, face nudging into Cassie's neck, breathing in the scent of her subtle perfume. They stay like that for a few minutes before she reluctantly turns and slips her arms around his waist, tilting her head up to whisper in his ear. 

"Why don't you go take a shower and put on some pajamas and I'll fix us a snack?" she suggests softly. "We'll have some of this wine on the couch." 

He just nods, kissing her neck, before turning to leave the kitchen and make his way to the bathroom to take a hot shower. Portland winters were brutal and, despite making the trek home in a warm truck, he still felt the cold's icy fingers in his bones, it seems like, and he needed to chase it away. 

While, he's taking a shower, Cassie fixes a sandwich, and puts it on a plate along with a few of Jake's favorite chips, and a couple of still warm snickerdoodles. When that's done, she ladels the warm wine into two mismatched China mugs, one with Santa and his reindeer, and another with thick lines of red forming a rough sketch of a snowman and a Cardinal. She tops each mug with a fresh orange slice, balances the plate on one of the mugs, and carries everything into the living room. 

She's just turning the record over to the B-side when he comes back into the living room, looking relaxed and far warmer than before, in a pair of sweats and a simple black t-shirt. When Ella's voice is once again spreading tenderness like sprinkles on a cookie, Cassie grabs his hand, and guides him to the couch. She hands him a mug, picks up the plate, and her own mug before settling into his side, throwing her legs over his knees. He covers them both with the blanket she keeps on the arm of the couch, and rests one hand on her legs. 

"Sandwich?" she offers him half of the sandwich she fixed. 

"Thanks, darlin'." 

Silence envelopes them, once more, both content to munch on their sandwich and chips without conversation. It isn't until the plate is empty, except for the cookies, that Cassie speaks again, "I thought you might like some snickerdoodles. I know you said they're your favorite." 

The cookie is soft, still warm, and practically melts in his mouth, barely leaving the need for a sip of wine to wash it all down. Eve's recipe for mulled wine is truly that of a colonel - more alcohol than anything - but Cassie had taken it down a notch, wanting something more subtle for her and Jake to enjoy. It's fruit and spice and the heat of the alcohol as it slips into the bloodstream pulls heavy at eyelids and settles comfortably in their stomachs. 

By the time the mugs are empty, they're both feeling tipsy. Pupils blown a bit wider than usual, muscles relaxed, and inhibitions a touch lower than they would be without the help of liquor. The plate and mugs are moved to the coffee table and Cassie shifts until the blanket is pooled on the floor and she's straddling Jake's hips. 

"I missed you, today." she speaks simply, combing his messy curls with her fingers. 

"I missed you, too." 

Cassie teases him with a nip at his bottom lip, barely brushing it with her tongue, before she's releasing it with a coy grin. Warm hands frame her face, fingers sinking into her messy hair, tugging her back down to kiss properly. She grips the couch behind him, cushion bunching between her fingers, as the heavy taste of wine and sugar in his mouth intoxicates her further. 

"You feel good," Jake murmurs, slipping his hands beneath the flannel shirt tied around her body. 

"So do you." 

It's an interesting thing, they do, what with the way they seem to melt into one another. All warm flesh and soft fabric and moving hips and fused mouths. How they're more addicted to the taste of each other than to the wine still in their blood or the cookies. How they seem to sink into the sleepy atmosphere and let it carry them away, content to kiss lazily, and let the world carry on without them. 

Sleep is a welcome intruder, a presence they surrender to with ease, tumbling into bed, and sharing a few more lazy kisses before they drift off, dreaming of Christmases to come, and how much they'd like to be together for all of them. 

Sharing kisses over mulled wine and snickerdoodles. 


End file.
